


figured out what to call the song

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clem Got Stood Up, Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Modern AU, No Smut, One Shot, Strangers, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 21:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17732837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Clem took a quick look around the restaurant exhaling before emptying the glass in one gulp and slightly moved her chair back ready to stand up when the chair she had been mentally tearing up the past hour got taken.





	figured out what to call the song

If there was one thing she was content with at the moment it would be the fact that she hadn’t let her hair down. Well, she probably could think of more than one thing. For instance, the taste of the wine her waiter had chosen for her was ok. The restaurant was dim enough to hide the redness of her cheeks caused by that same wine. Clementine also managed not to put on the most uncomfortable pair of heels, and the long sleeve velvet blood red dress Gabe gave her as a Christmas gift was soft to touch and kept her warm. The stares of the people sitting at the tables next to her seemed to get less pitiful and curious. Hers, however, hadn’t lost any bitterness whenever the silk beige chair in front of her would remind Clem of the person who booked this table months ago and got them into a fight last Friday.

Four years. Four consistent years of clingy memories, shared holidays, and annoyingly sweet traditions sinking as fast as the remnants of her hope. What did she hope for exactly? For starters, that everything would work out like it was supposed to, like they always did. At the end of the day, Gabe didn’t cancel this reservation.

 _He didn’t come either._ Fuck... No. She was not going to cry in public. She would get home, get ice cream, maybe even make her own dinner. She would go for coconut macaroons and end up crying with egg whites on her palms or eat a loath of bread dipped in whatever she’d find at her place. After all, Clementine had the whole evening for herself to get whiny, so she could pull herself together tomorrow after a long shower. No showers tonight though. Post-wine ones had always been way too long and self-pitying.

Should she just make it to the exit? Block him? Get more wine? Clem took a quick look around the restaurant exhaling before emptying the glass in one gulp and slightly moved her chair back ready to stand up when the chair she had been mentally tearing up the past hour got taken.

“I’m so sorry, hot lips— _and_ before you say ‘told you so’, let me tell you—yes, I was at Marlon’s and yes, we were practicing but I didn’t lose the track of time,” there was no way Clementine could grasp everything the stranger told her that night but she figured his intentions right after her perplexed eyes met his warming ones. “I swear I didn’t. It was just—well, Aasim got shot down by this girl he has a huge high school crush on. Remember Ruby? Yeah,” there was something about the guy sitting where her ex-boyfriend was supposed to. Something about his sky blue shirt and tied back dreads. Something about the way his whole body melted against the back of the chair when she stopped frowning. The way his smile was complementing the eyes full of intrigue and how uplifting voice gave away a tipsy undertone. “So he was this real mess and as I was sitting there, making sure he’s not a _total_ real mess, he said to me, ‘ _Louis_ , you’re such a great friend I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you but make sure you stay the same great boyfriend you are.’ And I remembered that you were waiting here… so not really boyfriend of the year but still not a complete jerk, right?”

Clem wondered how often he got a chance to say this to stood up girls before. She had to admit: Louis was so fluent in bullshit it made the tingling in her eyes go away.

“So, um, how was your practice?”

“Oh, it was... great actually,” she couldn’t suppress a soft smile when a genuine surprise broke through the coolness in his voice. “Glad you asked. We finally came up with something. Even decided to name a song after my girlfriend.”

Clementine did not push her chair forward nor said her name to him smiling knowingly and slightly shaking her head. They sat there quietly for a few moments bluntly staring at each other, enjoying the conversation their eyes had. _“Thank you,”_ hers would say, and he would respond with a dismissive _“no problem”_ getting back to his mission to find out the name of the buttery sweet eyes owner.

“Want to get out of here?”  _Huh?_ “I mean—” Louis’ casual expression turned into nervous one the moment he noticed aversion spreading across her face. “You were about to leave, right? I doubt you staying for an actual dinner. And um, you know, I could be a pretty good company.”

“I think your heartbroken friend the one who actually needs your company,” no, she wasn’t staying. Nor she was spending the rest of the night with this guy.

“Heartbroken? Oh. Aasim... He seems to be doing just fine,” Louis turned his head and looked all the way back. “My friends got him drunk, and since he’s not usually a sad drunk, he will start quoting whatever author he has on mind until he passes out.”

“So he did get rejected,” Clementine crossed her arms. Her left eyebrow arched a second later. She tried to make out faces noticing three figures sitting at the table Louis assumingly was supposed to be at right now. “Why don’t you go back then and get your friend home?”

“No can do, I'm afraid. _I’m_ a designated drunk, so I’m not the one who handles these things.”

The most enjoyable thing about Louis was the way he would correct himself any time Clem’s eyes switch from suspicious to judging. She didn’t let him do it this time, though. Instead, she just got up not breaking the eye contact thinking how super petty and satisfying it would be to offer Louis and his friends to get anything on her table since Gabe’s card was still attached. Maybe she would get cup noodles tonight.

“Wanna know what kind of a drunk I am?” she ended up asking. For some reason, it felt better with Louis talking and not looking at her like that. Although Clem did appreciate that he wasn’t pressuring and convincing her to leave with him. “I’m the puker. A drunk puker who wants to clean up their mess and ends up clogging tub and sink drainers even more. Good I keep my hair short. Still extremely appealing whenever pineapple pieces get stuck in it if—well, whenever I decide to have shots after pina coladas.”

He scoffed and stood up, looking the same way he did when he just showed up—too nice. 

“It does sound weirdly appealing.”

It was at this moment she felt built up by solitude neediness taking the reins and warning her. Giving her a chance to leave now before she could reveal that Gabe barely ever drank and was a designated driver even if a situation didn’t call for it, that the only person who wished her happy Valentine’s Day that day was her cousin AJ. That she was starving and really interested in what kind of music Louis had been playing.

Clem would even dare and say never in her life she had considered one-night stands as something possible, yet it was deliberately changing the longer she was being held hostage by his somewhat understanding dark eyes.  

“Clementine,” was the only thing she managed to say.

“Clementine?”

“The name of your new song? It’s Clementine.”


End file.
